


Waiting in line

by zephalien



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drinking, Emotionally Repressed, Gay, Gay Bar, Gay Panic, Homosexuality, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Repression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2020-10-10 07:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephalien/pseuds/zephalien
Summary: The title is after a Mal Blum song about not being the kind of person who belongs in a gay bar despite being some kind of queer and I thought it suited Crowley.When I write Crowley, his main attribute is self doubt/loathing.





	1. The Pink Cardigan

**Author's Note:**

> if you like me hmu on tumblr/twitter under the same handle  


It was fine after everything ended. They both just sort of picked up where they left off. Crowley back to his bleak spacious flat around the corner from the ritz and Aziraphale back to his musty old bookshop where he busied himself rearranging things Adam had miracled incorrectly. He found a few odd items here and there. There was some books that once opened had jibberish inside them and titles like "Adult books for things you do with cars or some such". Most of his books were back perfectly and none missing but the additions seemed to be based on what Adam believed every bookshop contained inside of it.  
Crowley's flat was similarly unchanged plus an addition or two and for some reason in his wardrobe was a red blazer and halloween horns. Perhaps Adam had been a devil one halloween and this is what he'd worn. It was a bit funny and they chatted about it at the various diners and fancy restaurants Aziraphale always managed to drag Crowley to with him.  
As always, Crowley pretended to be bothered while secretly signing up Aziraphale for adverts of new places he might like in the mail and mentioning casually new chefs that were upcoming, as if it was only idle chatter and not a goad.  
Aziraphale for his part of their dance went on pretending that they were both having dinner as opposed to Crowley laying leisurely across a table while watching him salaciously as he ate slowly and savored the two meals they each ordered (and especially dessert). Crowley was very good at figuring out what the other things were on the menu Aziraphale might like to try so there was no need to ask for much when with Crowley. He seemed to always know perfectly what Aziraphale would enjoy somehow. Almost as if by magic, Aziraphale thought drunkenly to himself one night but snorted and dismissed the thought.  
They had, after all, known each other for quite a long time so it was only natural Crowley had managed to remember one or two things. It was nothing to bother about, Aziraphale assumed.  
However, Crowley wasn't quite so content with the new results of the old arrangement. There was no more work (evil or heavenly) to keep him busy or to keep his mind off a certain angel and certain things that were said when they were facing an apocolypse.  
When Crowley was quiet the words Aziraphale had shouted rang in his head and even though of course it did seem Aziraphale didn't mind him as much as he had implied then. He still thought about it.  
'I don't even like you.'  
Crowley wondered if Aziraphale only hung out with him because he was lonely. It hurt to think. It ached so deeply throbbing in his chest he couldn't breathe properly sometimes, but he never mentioned it during their time together. Why waste whatever time Aziraphale would have him for by being insecure. He was a demon after all. They aren't insecure. They don't whine about not being "liked" and they definitely definitely don't show weakness by asking about it.  
Had he asked Aziraphale might have had some answers for him and perhaps questions of his own.  
But Crowley didn't ask and so Aziraphale went on blathering over tea or drinks or strawberry shortcake (and goodness that was quite a sight for poor Crowley's little wrinkled heart. The angel biting into perfect miracle red strawberries and his mouth covered in smooth whipped cream.)  
Aziraphale was hoping, of course, that if he didn't press too hard or say too much that Crowley wouldn't notice that he asked him to dinner more frequently, that he needed Crowley's help to assemble a book case too often, that he called the snake far too much and too overzealously. He knew that if Crowley got the sense of what he wanted (what he believed he couldn't have) that Crowley would bolt to Australia or go take another unfortunately long nap and the angel would once again be alone in England pretending the books were his only and truest love.  
Crowley allowed himself to be tugged around and, unfortunately for them both, he hadn't, in fact, noticed the incredible frequency with which the angel requested his presence and instead attributed any increase in time spent together to lightened rules from heaven and hell and the angel's obvious lonliness. He was only spending time with Crowley because he lacked another companion after all so why take note of how often.  
It wasn't until Crowley realized it had been two weeks and he had seen Aziraphale every day. He realized that he rarely initiated these meetings and felt even worse.  
The angel must be more lonely than he had previously realized. He wondered morosely what to do and wondered if Aziraphale needed a more suitable companion, especially considering how much he seemed to want one.  
Crowley set out searching for a solution. He found one in the swing dancing nights held in a local pub on fridays. It seemed a good subtle way to get the angel some new companions and perhaps a date or two.  
Aziraphale enjoyed dancing despite his lack of experience with it but the swing dancing night had a lesson beforehand, Crowley instructed him, so at least he wouldn't be the only beginner there.  
Crowley put on his best outfit to go, even though he was aware that if his plans succeeded he would be leaving Aziraphale in the hands of another.  
It went... well. Crowley had hoped until the point they arrived that his plan would fail. Maybe the angel would be in a fussy mood as he sometimes was and he wouldn't want to stay long. Maybe Aziraphale would take him away from this loud place and they would drink a bottle back at his shop like always and nothing would change and things would be normal.  
Things didn't happen that way and they definitely weren't normal.  
Aziraphale had showed up in (Crowley wasn't even certain how to describe it) a beautiful fancy collared shirt and a cardigan pulled over it in the most vibrant shade of pastel pink, of all colors. Crowley hadn't ever seen Aziraphale in any bold colors like that and it shocked him so much he couldn't focus at first.  
"-and after that a few drinks, perhaps, before we join in with the rest?" Aziraphale finished saying. Crowley missed the first 5 minutes of Aziraphale talking but he nodded and swallowed harshly anyway. He would follow the angel's lead as usual until it was time for him to fade into the background, again as usual.  
Aziraphale had a rosy tinge to his cheeks to match his sweater and Crowley considered how he'd never seen Aziraphale quite so dressed down. He wasn't sure how to take it. He wasn't sure, even more so, how to stop staring at it.  
The worst aspect of this new attire was the urge to touch the sweater draped loosely and casually across the angel. The fabric looked so soft and he imagined the warm figure beneath it and how it would feel to simply wrap his long fingers around the angel's arm.  
Aziraphale was in fine form tonight. He was cheerful and friendly and lovely enough to make up for his sour companion who was failing more and more to keep up his usual facade especially when faced with so many people Aziraphale clearly enjoyed spending time with more. They drank a bit and took the lesson and drank a bit more.  
It was time to do the actual dancing and Aziraphale asked him to dance. Crowley was a bit surprised but he figured it was hard to find a new person on the first dance so he agreed.  
They danced so clumsily but swiftly and even Crowley's mood lightened a little at the laughter from Aziraphale and the movement. He savored the contact their hands made and the brushes of their skin as their bodies met accidentally during the dancing as much as Aziraphale any delicate cake he had consumed. He had enjoyed dancing before but nothing prepared him for the swooping in his stomach as Aziraphale's strong hands held him and the way they pulled and held each other. The first song was over in an instant from Crowley's perspective and much much too soon. Now it's time to make my move, Crowley thought to himself as he disentangled (mournfully) from the angel.  
"I'm gonna go get a drink." He said over the din. Aziraphale made a move to come with him but he pressed a hand to his chest right on the lapel of the sweater (and pretended to god and himself he wasn't savoring this moment as well).  
"No no," Crowley wrenched out, "you're having fun. Just ask someone to dance. You're quite popular."  
Crowley tried to sound playful and suggestive but he didn't quite manage it, but the noise covered the way his voice fell flat.  
Aziraphale smiled and nodded pleasantly.  
"Be back soon though, won't you?" Aziraphale said unexpectedly and Crowley felt his heart tear a little further.  
"Of course." He lied, certain that once the angel had danced with a few suitors he would forget all about his old demonic companion.  
Aziraphale smiled stupidly and let Crowley leave him on the dance floor.  
If Crowley hadn't been trying to get to the bar and away from Aziraphale so fast, if he had only just looked back, he might've realized his error right then. Aziraphale stood still grinning at his demonic companion like he'd won a prize until Crowley dissapeared into the throng and only then did he turn and seek out a new dance partner.  
Crowley didn't look back. He went straight to the bar and planted himself someplace out of the way and ordered a large glass of something or other he barely even paid attention.  
Aziraphale was so happy that Crowley had iniated one of their dates. He was wont to call it that but he had been referring to their meeting this way in his head for a while now and the sudden reciprication made him foolishly hopeful. Perhaps he had been wrong. Maybe Crowley had only needed time to realize what he had always felt was between them. Maybe Crowley felt the same way toward him that he felt for Crowley.  
In any case, the dancing had made him giddy and reckless and he was happy in the crowded pub with all these people having a nice time.  
He was very popular actually. Crowley had been right. He had spent a bit of time here and there in clubs and dance halls. He enjoyed the humans behaviors and sought it in all forms and dancing was one. The gavotte was the only dance he'd been compelled to participate in not for lack of wanting to before or since, but because he was an angel and they were meant to be restrained.  
The club the night he learned the gavotte was a swirl of colors and love. Every so often a mood permeates an area and the humans seem to fall together and syncronize and it was intoxicating to him even more than the drinks he had been letting a man who looked a little too much like a certain aquaintance of his buy him all night. The man, despite his eyes being the wrong color for Aziraphale's taste, managed to persuade him into learning it and he had just spiraled from there. He had recieved a memo about his "behavior" the next morning while hung over and hadn't repeated the expirement.  
Now, though... Now? Things were so different it made his head spin. He wasn't sure what the night out meant when Crowley had asked and was more confused at the sour mood from his companion, but the smile Crowley flashed during their dance had put him at ease. Perhaps too at ease in the end.  
He had missed the grimace from Crowley in favor of doing some savoring of his own at the contact from the demon's hand pressed against his chest.  
He had been nervous of the outfit but Crowley's eyes on him had made him pleased he chose it.  
He obeyed Crowley's command and danced with a few people and seemed to be making a few new friendships that night with some of the friendly humans at the pub Crowley had brought him to.  
A woman historian had roped him into a conversation about the french revolution and discovering how knowledgable he was began peppering him with questions at the bar. He kept an eye out for Crowley, but he must have been mingling or dancing himself because he couldn't spot him. He wasn't worried though (not yet) because the demon tended to fidget and wander and he didn't want to seem clingy especially since he had been taking up so much of Crowley's time lately.  
Crowley was at the bar too but around the other edge and nearly out of sight of his angel companion.  
Nearly.  
He wished he was fully out of sight when Aziraphale appeared at the bar and settled down with a beautiful woman. They were talking passionately and Aziraphale leaned in a few times with a twinkle in his eye that was usually reserved for him. The angel was clearly enjoying himself and Crowley's mood grew more sullen.  
"Well, hello goregous. Why such a sour expression? Not enjoying the music?" A tall man said in a friendly tone.  
The man was a stool away from him sipping casually on a beer and tall enough to be a match for Gabriel. The comparison didn't sour him to the demon though because he didn't have the same smug air about him. He seemed harmless enough and Crowley was drunk and sad so some of the story came stumbling out of him.  
"- and now I wish I hadn't done it because he looks like he's having a much better time than he's ever going to with me anyway. I just... I just want him happy, I suppose, but it's... oh, I don't know." He finished after rambling on just a bit too long.  
The tall man, Matt, who had introduced himself somewhere during the tale and scooted down to the seat next to Crowley, leaned back from where he had been leaning his head on his hand with an arm propped on the bar and looked around.  
"Is that him?" Matt asked, good naturedly.  
He nodded casually in the direction of Aziraphale and Crowley nodded miserably. He had guessed because Crowley mentioned the sweater (4 times).  
Matt nodded and hummed.  
"Can I say something?" Matt asked carefully.  
"You've just done." Crowley mouthed off. He didn't mean to be rude. He was simply moody and miserable watching the angel laugh. The woman's friends had stopped by and Aziraphale was chatting happily with the group.  
Matt laughed though instead of scolding him as he had thought he might.  
Matt looked at him for a moment still smiling then glanced at Aziraphale again.  
"You've known each other a long time, right?" Matt asked.  
"Yes," Crowley replied. He hadn't specified how long, just that they were old friends.  
Matt nodded then appeared to be considering something. He took a long sip of his beer that Crowley watched idly, mostly in an attempt to stop himself looking back at the angel for the millionth time.  
Matt plopped the empty bottle onto the bar and looked at Crowley and smiled kindly.  
"Fuck me for saying this, because you are so gorgeous I'd just as soon take you home myself, but you are being an idiot." Matt said finally.  
Crowley choked on the drink he had chosen that moment to take a swig off and coughed.  
"What?" he gasped.  
Matt was unpreturbed, clapping him on the back for a moment until Crowley stopped sputtering.  
When Crowley settled back down he said again, "What?"  
Matt laughed loudly, "Oh come on, dear boy."  
He looked expectantly at Crowley. Crowley just cocked an eyebrow sassily in response.  
Matt rolled his eyes still grinning, "Oh my god." Crowley glanced around at this as if checking for her here.  
"I can't believe how clueless you both are." Matt continued without explaining.  
Crowley fidgeted anxiously and snapped, "Yeah? How do you figure?"  
Matt was, again, unperturbed by the moody demon and instead he grinned wider. "He is in love with you, you absolute wanker."  
Crowley, who had managed to not gag again, dropped his drink and it spilled the little amount of amber liquid at the bottle.  
While Crowley was sputtering and Matt was laughing a bartender came to mop up the mess and Matt took the opportunity to order them both some type of whiskey. Crowley barely paid it attention his eyes locked on Matt.  
When the woman moved away from them to fetch the drinks, Crowley took the opportunity to hiss "explain yourself" to Matt.  
Matt was tickled by this as well. His rosy cheeks indicated he was a bit in the drink now and having too much fun taunting the demon. Crowley thought about messing with him, but he did seem to be a nice human and he hated to think of Aziraphale's pout if he did anything evil while they were having such a lovely night out (for Aziraphale anyway).  
Matt calmed finally and then studied Crowley more seriously.  
"You have known him 'forever'," he did air quotes, "your words. He asks you round constantly. He spends little time with anyone else but you, yet seems to be having no problems socially at the moment."  
Matt gestured at the group who seemed to be enthralled by a story the angel was telling and almost on cue Aziraphale made a sweeping gesture and the group surrounding him burst out laughing.  
"Your point?" Crowley said stubbornly.  
Matt sighed at him and rolled his eyes still grinning. "Maybe he is trying not to scare you off or he thinks you wouldn't be interested. I don't know, but I am almost certain the man loves you as much and probably as stupidly as you do him."  
Matt made a ta da gesture and reached for the whiskey the bartender had left in front of them while they talked.  
Crowley didn't move at all. He sat very still for a long time. Matt finally nudged him after a few minutes had passed in silence.  
"Did I break you?" Matt asked gently but with humor in his eyes.  
Crowley simply glanced up at him. There was a sudden vulnerability in his eyes that made Matt put his drink down and look at him more seriously.  
"What if you're wrong?" Crowley asked weakly not ready to let himself believe this man.  
If Matt had been cavelier until now he knew better than to keep up the attitude. This was a man who needed some gentleness, if only for a moment.  
"Crowley- That was your name right?"  
Crowley nodded.  
Matt continued, "Crowley, if he wanted to be rid of you. He might've done it by now, don't you think?"  
Crowley stuttered, "No. N- He. He just.. We."  
"Have spent every day together it seems like," and Crowley hadn't specified that though it was true, "and he asks for your help with things he could probably accomplish himself. He takes you to restaurants. He came out with you here and you were the one who told him to talk to other people and then you've hidden yourself over here so he hasn't even a chance to find you again. If you ask me, and you did, you are the one sending the mixed signals here. Not him."  
Crowley opened and closed his mouth dumbly as he considered this.  
Aziraphale did enjoy humans though he never kept them around for long. He did ask Crowley to restaurants and Crowley and told him to stay.  
The earlier moment on the dancefloor replaying in his head.  
(Be back soon, won't you?)  
Was he imagining the soft look Aziraphale had given him? Had he missed initially the way Aziraphale's chest pressed into his hand as he held him back? Aziraphale could have been leaning forward because of the lack of space or some other reason, but now with Matt's words ringing in his ears? Now he wasn't so sure.  
Crowley looked at Matt again and he was terrified. "What do I... do?"  
Matt snorted. "I don't know, man! I'm clearly no casanova. I mean, I managed to hit on someone who is practically married and have spent ages talking you through your relationship insecurity. I am no romance guru, but if it were me I'd -I don't know- talk to him? Kiss him? Propose? Take your pick. I doubt you could go wrong."  
Crowley studied Matt's face for a hint of mocking or some sort of prank. Maybe Beelzebub had taken to using humans to torment him now that thet couldn't kill him. The human looked genuine though, if a bit intoxicated.  
Crowley nodded. He had a lot to consider.  
Matt smiled at him kindly and rummaged in his bag.  
"Look, take my number," he scribbled something down and passed it to Crowley, "if you get the urge to discuss this with someone, since it seems you don't have many gay friends, you are welcome to text me, okay?"  
Crowley took it and nodded gratefully, "Thank you. That's very... kind... of you."  
He wasn't used to humans being kind to him, but he didn't usually socialize with them this way either.  
Matt told him he was meeting some mates at another bar down the street but urged him to text if he needed anything then left Crowley to his thoughts.  
Crowley sat there for a long time and rotated the thought around in his brain. Could it be possible he missed it the whole time? When would Aziraphale have fallen in love too? Was he even capable of falling in love with a demon? Was that allowed?  
Crowley shook his head as if too clear it. He wasn't the type to sit still like this and he had been here for a long time already. He looked over to where Aziraphale had been and realized the angel had slipped away while he wasn't looking. A few of the people he had been chatting with where there still but no Aziraphale.  
Crowley wandered the pub looking for him and caught a flash of pink on the dance floor.


	2. Swirling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> now is a good time to mention this isnt asad ending type fic  
tho the chapter is sad  
its also not the end

Aziraphale was a swirl of color and Crowley was almost glad to get the outside perspective just to watch him. It was the woman that was the problem.  
She twirled around with Aziraphale and even slightly playful and assertive.  
She danced with Aziraphale the way a confident woman dances.  
For the first time in all of human history, Crowley felt his form's skin crawl and tighten with expectations. He had allowed the awkwardness of human gender to happen around him with little notice except to observe enough to mimick what was expected that century.  
He enjoyed dressing in the clothes of women even though he tended to avoid it. It only drew attention to him. He wasn't one for unprovoked attention. The attention he enjoyed garnering was always very provoked. The issue of human's always glancing at him was that he was often doing things that weren't for human eyes. He didn't need to be looked at more often than he already was. So, he allowed himself to be dragged, mildly obstinately, into the current gender expectations of his form.  
Aziraphale was always better at adapting without doing any actual adapting. The humans saw his old fashioned sensibilities as "quirky" or "bumbling". He had a well meaning aura and humans are so sensitive.  
Crowley ducked outside after tracking the flashing pink across the room as Aziraphale contrasted with the woman's forest green dress.  
She suited him. Their energies were coloring each other's so... pleasantly. Crowley wished he could deny it.  
They looked... beautiful. Together.  
Crowley noticed some humans staring at him awkwardly standing near the outside of the bar so he pulled out a pack of freshly manifested cigarettes to justify his precense.  
They looked away and back to their conversation once he lit his cigarette and he calmed his agitation at being watched with the smoke swirling in front of him.  
His skin tingled at the anxiety rushing through him. The instant of hope and how it was squashed so quickly.  
Of course Matt was fooling him or foolish himself. To err is human after all.  
He laughed bitterly at his own unspoken joke but the humans who had been suspicious didn't return their gaze to him. They assumed he was drunk and smoking.  
He was, after all.  
He looked back at the bar door.  
Time to slip away into the night perhaps.  
Give the angel a chance with his new friend.  
He wandered away as if he had barely been there to start with and barely anyone who had been at the bar would recall his precense anyway.  
Almost everyone, to be quite frank, except one angel. He was too preoccupied by the swirling dancing he had escaped to after seeing a beautiful man give Crowley his number on a slip of paper though.  
And once again, the angel and demon parted ways.


	3. Too fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Im so shit at naming the chapters of this bc i finish writing and im like blleeehehhehevbeh iiiddiots hshsvaavab   
which... isnt an acceptable chapter title

Crowley had fallen asleep drunk and woke relatively horribly hung over even for him.  
He remembered everything in painful detail unfortunately and pulled Matt's phone number out of his pocket. He entered it in his phone then tossed the paper on his empty coffee table.  
He rarely used the thing seeing as he didn't have any company or any coffee.

He decided to lay back in his bed but the sun streaming in irritated him despite his blinds. He went for a walk to the park. If he couldn't sleep he might as well cause some ruckus to cure his bad mood.

He was wandering around trying to spot humans to annoy but he was too annoyed already to put much effort into it and ended up just meadering past the duck pond.  
A thousand meetings passed through his memories and he turned away just in time to see Aziraphale storming up the path toward him.  
"Azi-" he began surprised.  
"Don't Aziraphale me. You left me." Aziraphale fumed reaching him.  
Left him? Crowley was confused. He had given Aziraphale the space necessary to form new relationships with new companians. That hardly seemed worth yelling about to the demon and his head was pounding.  
"Please," he grabbed his head indicating the pain, "not with the yelling."  
"Oh I certainly will yell. I am furious with you. Come here." The last words spoken impatiently as Aziraphale gestured to Crowley's face.  
Crowley moved forward slightly trying to obey the gesture and Aziraphale slid a hand over his forehead and past his left temple. His hand slid gracefully down the back of Crowley's head and then his hand was gone along with the headache.  
"Oh." Crowley said stupidly, head suddenly both very clear and very clouded.  
"Thank you." He said moronically.  
Aziraphale looked mortally offended by the words, "Thank you!! Thank you?? You ditch me at a bar after you- you- You! Promised to come back!"  
Aziraphale sputtered at him and Crowley attempted to catch up but he was having trouble.  
"I thought you..." He trailed off not sure where to go with this. He didn't want to admit to Aziraphale it had been an intentional set up, but he also didn't want Aziraphale to be angry either.  
"You thought what?" Aziraphale said impatiently, eyes clouded with something strange and angry.  
"You seemed to be having fun and I just thought I'd slip out without um... bothering you." Crowley ended lamely.  
Aziraphale's expression was severe and unreadable. "How kind of you." He said coldly.  
Crowley held up his hands pacifying, "I'm sorry. You seemed to be having a nice time with that woman you were chatting up and I didn't want to... erm... get in the way."  
Crowley looked away anxiously and there was a beat of silence. Aziraphale made a soft weak scoffing type of noise and when Crowley looked back at him he was schooling his face into an unreadable neutral expression he must have practiced for centuries. Aziraphale tended to wear his emotions right on his face. (Crowley did too but he'd never admit it and Aziraphale kindly didn't point it out to him.)

Aziraphale swallowed and looked away blankly, "I shouldn't have gotten upset. I expect you were busy with that man I saw you getting on with in the corner."  
Crowley carefully didn't move his face. He hoped Aziraphale wasn't aware of the way he was whining to Matt for hours. He felt if anyone had looked at him during that discussion they'd have noticed and he hadn't even known Aziraphale had seen them speaking.  
"Matt? He's just a ... man.. I met." Crowley wasn't sure how to explain himself without giving everything away but Aziraphale still seemed to be wanting an explanation despite his sudden solemnness.

Aziraphale, in turn, studied Crowley's anxious expression for a while and huffed a sigh. "It's fine. You are obviously allowed to talk with whoever you desire."  
Crowley missing the double entendre breathed a sigh of relief. Now he just needed to get this conversation back on track.  
"So," he began awkwardly, "What was the woman's name you were prattling along to all night?"  
He attempted to sound teasing but it came out flat. Aziraphale was too distracted to notice, of course.  
"Lauren? She's a history professor at the local university. Quite an interesting woman. Of course she had many questions about different historical eras when she found out I was a... book shop owner."  
Aziraphale couldn't help but turn up a sly smile at that. Crowley let an anxious smile creep onto his face in response. They were both relieved to have managed to keep from admitting too much to the other.  
"Do you want to go to the restaurant on 3rd that opened recently?" Aziraphale asked suddenly, oddly shy.  
Crowley simply nodded, not really trusting himself yet. This wasn't the way it was meant to be. Aziraphale was supposed to be done with him now. Perhaps Crowley would have to work at this little plan of his a while longer still.  
Aziraphale walked along ahead of Crowley not waiting as he normally did and Crowley stumbled to follow the quick pace he set.  
"Angel, wait. You're going too fast for me." Crowley said frustrated by the pace.  
Aziraphale whipped around to him at the line and Crowley stopped short and gulped.  
"I'm s sssorry," Crowley stuttered and hissed stupidly not even fully sure why he was apologizing but remembering the same moment as Aziraphale just the same. "That wassn't... what I mea-"  
"Don't apologize when I'm the one who should be sorry." Aziraphale said abruptly with an even voice.  
Crowley could do little more than nod and then they began walking again. This time side by side. Crowley kept glancing at Aziraphale sideways every once and a while. He was begging himself to stop but as the silent walk drew on he couldn't help but do so over and over. Aziraphale was thankfully people watching instead of looking at Crowley.  
The only words spoken on the walk was when Crowley grumbled over a couple holding hands blocking the whole path in front of him.  
Aziraphale laughed a bit bitterly, "I think it's nice."  
He said it softly, sweetly, but his expression was complicated. Crowley opened his mouth to ask but Aziraphale spoke first turning to him abruptly.  
"I'd forgotten.. I've got some.. books. A shipment. Of books. They are being delivered," Aziraphale looked at his watch, "now it seems. I must go. My apologies."  
Crowley barely had time to stutter out a goodbye before the angel had sped away in the other direction.  
Crowley felt completely out of sorts. He had no idea what was happening or why Aziraphale was acting so strangely. He was probably just worried about his shop the silly old fool. He was always so odd about his books.Crowley turned too and headed home. He was tired of humans.


	4. Croissant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter from laurens perspective is more like how to handle ur sudden friendship with a gay possible time traveler  
also i love aziraphale bc he thinks crowley is somehow sexy and sauve enough to successfully pick up a date in a bar lol

chapter 4

Aziraphale didn't go to the book shop. He walked all the way to it and then stood in front of the doors nervously. He didn't really have a shipment coming in and this was one of those days he knew not a soul would make its way into the shop.   
He turned away without entering and headed to the university. It was nearing lunchtime and perhaps he could persuade Lauren to grab a bite with him. She had offered for him to come by anytime though he expected she didn't mean quite so soon. He went anyway because he knew being alone for the rest of the night in his musty old bookshop where he and Crowley had shared many a drunken evening would only agitate his mood further.  
Last night at the bar, Lauren had correctly guessed he was smitten after the 10th time he had glanced around for Crowley in the span of their incredibly short (at that point) conversation.  
"You looking for someone?" She grinned.  
Aziraphale grinned shyly in response, a touch embarrassed over his schoolboy behavior. "I can't seem to spot my.. My. my."  
Aziraphale didn't know what to call Crowley anymore. He wasn't his friend before when that wasn't allowed and now... Well, Aziraphale wasn't sure what tonight and the invitation to go dancing even really meant and he'd feel quite foolish to call Crowley something silly like a "boyfriend".  
But Lauren caught on quick, a skill she proved more than once over the course of the evening. "You're not sure, huh?"  
Aziraphale sighed, defeated. "Yes, precisely. We.. well. We have known each other for quite a ... long while, you see? We were forbidden to pursue any type of relationship before .. at the... Company.. we worked for."  
"Any type?" She questioned briefly but moved along, "and now?"  
"Well," he paused momentarily as he attempted to find words that would make sense to a human, "now it seems we are both unemployed for the... foreseeable future and, to be quite honest, I am not certain what we are doing anymore."  
Lauren smiled sympathetically.  
"To be frank, dear. I was a bit more comfortable when we were simply meeting up for brief moments and there was at least some set of.. of... Rules!" Aziraphale said flustered. He had a few drinks at this point, but so had Lauren.  
"Well. Whats he look like? I'll spot him. Keen eyes." She bragged tapping her cheek. That got a smile out of Aziraphale despite his pouting.   
Aziraphale described Crowley's sharp angular face and tall lanky form. He got a bit flustered saying "he's got quite.. long legs."  
Lauren grinned wickedly through the description and glanced around.  
"That him?" she said, her voice suddenly gaurded.  
Aziraphale perked up seeing Crowley sitting at the bar then deflated quickly. Crowley bore a very anxious and intense expression as he stared into the eyes of a beautiful and very tall person. The person speaking to Crowley was turned away but his fine broad shoulders were clad in a stylish light jacket. Aziraphale glanced down at his outfit which seemed clownish and silly in comparison to such a beautiful and stylish figure.  
"... yes. It is." He said in a slightly defeated voice.  
He and Lauren watched on and off while she attempted and failed to distract him. A few of her friends trickled over and Aziraphale let his attention be pulled away, especially after Crowley seemed to choke on his drink and the stranger laughed loudly while clapping him on the back. It wasn't fair. Crowley had never looked so... so vulnerable with him.  
He dove into a story about the bolsheviks when Lauren sort of snorted next to him, her eyes turned to the direction Crowley was in.  
She had been keeping an eye on the demon it seemed and Aziraphale turned to see Crowley frantically trying to handle a spill he had caused while the tall stranger laughed again and, a detail Aziraphale wished he hadn't seen, seemed to order drinks for both of them before the waitress moved away after cleaning up.  
Aziraphale feigned disinterest and tried harder to focus on the story but soon his gaze was drawn back to Crowley and he saw something even worse.  
The handsome figure was leaning down to hand Crowley a scrap of paper, presumably contact information. Crowley grasped it quickly and put it in his pocket. He looked up at the stranger's face so ungaurded. Aziraphale hadn't seen him look like that before.  
The closest he had seen was the angry expression Crowley wore when Aziraphale wouldn't go to space. That was just fear then. This? This was something new.  
Aziraphale turned to Lauren miserably, searching.  
She studied his face for a moment then clasped her hands and said, "Let's dance a bit!"  
Aziraphale let himself be dragged onto the dance floor and allowed himself to be pulled here and there and even started to cheer up a little from Lauren's efforts. He couldn't quite enjoy it the way he had with Crowley, but it was fine. It was good even. He was having a nice time. So what if Crowley had found a more suited companion? The stranger had been tall and handsome and fashionable. Crowley would be better off with someone like that instead of a persnickety old book shop owner and former angel.  
It's better this way, Aziraphale told himself and prepared internally to say so to Crowley when the demon came to find him later as he had promised.  
Aziraphale permitted himself to be pulled around the dance floor for a little while then excused himself to find Crowley.  
He walked slowly back to the bar and ordered a fresh drink then looked at the spot Crowley had been sitting in.  
He was gone. Aziraphale looked around the bar and even, for some absurd reason glanced into the loo but it seemed the demon had simply left. Aziraphale sat down at the bar defeated. He ordered another drink and sipped it until Lauren came to find him but he bid her goodnight quickly and took off. Crowley must have left with his suitor after all.  
Well, that was yesterday and this is today. Aziraphale thought. Today he would stop pining after a demon who felt nothing more than familiarity and possibly friendship for him and he would eat some lunch with a new friend.   
He miracled a book on the french revolution he was fond of to give as a gift to the woman. She had expressed interest in the time period and he was happy to oblige her interest. The french revolution had a few good memories in between the bad ones, after all.  
She was happy to see him when he arrived in her office. He was relieved by this. She quickly grabbed her coat at his offer while ranting about TA's mislabelling something or other. Her energy and spirit was helpful for getting him out of his funk from the awkward confrontation with Crowley this morning.  
Lauren walked him to her favorite cafe which happened to be close to his shop. He made a note to come back because their pastry offerings were quite delightful. He got two different kinds of baked goods alongside his tea and offered to pay for Lauren. She waved him off politely and got herself a coffee and a croissant.  
They settle down at a table near the front. Aziraphale was glad to have something to do as he people watched and Lauren arranged herself.  
Once she was comfortable, she settled her hands flat on the table and looked critically at his face. Aziraphale squirmed a little under her gaze.  
"What happened?" She said frankly though not unkindly.  
Aziraphale deflated immediately, "Nothing."  
"Come on then. Tell auntie Lauren your problems." She bode him before taking a messy bite out of her croissant.  
Aziraphale sighed moodily.   
"Oh. You brilliant woman. It's just.. I don't know how to behave now. He went home with some beautiful.." Aziraphale waved a hand vaguely indicating all the words there were for the person Crowley had been talking to in the bar.  
"You're jealous then." Lauren said busily as she poured cream in her coffee.  
"I'm not jealous. That's silly. I just... I didn't quite consider he'd have an interest in someone so..." He trailed off here not even sure what he was saying.  
"Someone so not you?" Lauren said somewhat seriously with a joking lilt.  
"Perhaps." Aziraphale admitted.  
Lauren laughed at the angel's pout and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. "Maybe you should have been more upfront with him."  
Aziraphale gaped at her. "How, dear girl, is that a solution to this problem?"  
Lauren shrugged in that american way she does and looked at him critically. "I'm only suggesting that if he knew you had an interest then maybe tall dark and sexy wouldn't have ever had a shot with him in the first place."  
Aziraphale considered the thought carefully. It seemed unlikely that Crowley had ever thought of him in anything approaching the same context as the stranger at the bar. The way he had looked when they had been speaking. Aziraphale was sure Crowley never looked at him that way. Still, he couldn't deny that humans had a stronger intuition about matters of... dating.  
"Then what are you suggesting?" Aziraphale asked defeated.  
"Wild concept, but maybe you should just talk to him?" She ventured.  
Aziraphale knew it was a rather mild suggestion but he had no idea how to process it. Crowley would laugh in his face. She had no idea how long he had felt this way or how humiliating it would be to admit to it. He was certainly not about to admit to Crowley how pathetically in love he had been for the majority of their relationship. What would he even say to Crowley? Aziraphale wondered. He can't just walk up to the demon and say hey, ever since you were a snake and I was the gaurdian of eden I've thought you were downright spiffy. He groaned audibly thinking about it and Lauren reached a hand to pat him on the arm when he hid his face in his hands.  
"I know its difficult." She allowed.  
"...impossible." He grumbled from behind his hands.  
Lauren chuckled at his antics and smoothed his sleeve with her palm. "Don't you think you are being a bit dramatic."  
"No." Aziraphale pouted from behind his hands.  
"Do you really think he will be upset with you if you tell him the truth? Or are you simply afraid to find out he doesn't like you back?" She said bluntly.  
Aziraphale shouldn't have spoken to an american woman about this especially an academic. She saw no issue with going out into the world and making her desires known. She couldn't begin to understand what 6000 years of holding yourself back could do to someone or the depth of his fear to lose his only and most beloved companion. He envied her in that moment.  
"I couldn't bear to lose him." Aziraphale said softly instead as he peeked out.  
"You won't." Lauren replied earnestly.  
Aziraphale shook his head and looked out the window gloomily. He wasn't so certain.


	5. Not just any demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets drunk and acts stupid what else is new?

Crowley headed back to his flat quickly but he kept turning back to go talk to Aziraphale again after their odd interaction. He would convince himself he would just go to the bookshop and discuss it then chicken out and turn back around.   
Finally he decided to just walk past the stupid bookshop. It's not like Aziraphale had to know, he told himself. He could just make sure the angel had gotten home okay. He continued attempting to convince himself he was behaving rationally as he walked toward the shop until a sight made him stop.

It was Aziraphale.   
Not in his shop but sat at coffee with a woman. Crowley knew her from the pub and a bolt of jealousy shot through him.  
He only stayed long enough to watch the woman place her hand on Arizaphale's sweetly then he all but sprinted in the other direction. 

He kept walking quickly down the road for a while until he realized he was slightly lost. He had been living in the area for hundreds and hundreds of year and occasionally he would forget that they had remodeled bits or which streets connected to where and he found himself in a side of town that he hadn't been to in about 100 or so years and was having trouble remembering where things were against the updated modern buildings.

He was not anywhere near his flat. That much was certain. 

He also didn't really particularly care.   
He wasn't feeling in the mood to languish alone at home. It suited him fine that he was lost because he was alone in the universe and being here amongst buildings he didn't recognize was almost relaxing in a morose way.  
He thought about going on a holiday somewhere. He could just get in his car and drive. No destination. No worries.  
It was almost pathetic that he couldn't bring himself to do it. He still couldn't bring himself to leave Aziraphale behind. He knew that no matter how he felt, how much it hurt, he would stick around as long as he could to watch over his angel. 

~~~

Aziraphale left the cafe after talking to Lauren for a while longer and he was feeling strange as he headed to his shop. He felt anxious and afraid but something else too. He felt resolve. He needed to talk to Crowley about this, if only to be swiftly rejected and have some closure on the issue. 

He was certain it was a foolish concept but perhaps after such a long time Crowley deserved honesty on this matter, especially with how erratic he had been behaving with him in the park. The demon couldn't have known how jealous he was feeling and Aziraphale was unjustly tough on him. It would only be right to explain himself to Crowley and hope the demon forgives his behavior and they can both forget the whole thing. Aziraphale tells himself it isn't because he wants for Crowley to return his feelings. He can't possibly return the angel's affections. He had always been so indulgent of the angel that Aziraphale thinks he must have gotten twisted up at some point. 

And of course, Aziraphale tells himself reproachfully, he is a demon. He probably has his fair share of interest from prospective partners. Crowley would certainly not be interested in a persnickety old angel such as him. 

Aziraphale's mind flashes back to the tall figure with broad shoulders who seemed to have enraptured Crowley so in the pub the other night. He tries very hard not to think too much about it. He decides he would rather not know.

When Aziraphale arrived at Crowley's flat, he was unsurprised to find out that Crowley leaves his doors unlocked. He tried to remember when he made the decision to come here instead of his own shop, but he can't. He had simply arrived here lost in thought.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale called as he walked down the hallways on Crowley's much too large flat. The emptiness of it caused Aziraphale's footsteps to echo uncomfortably on the hard tile.

Crowley didn't seem to be in the flat unfortunately. Aziraphale hovered in the living room anxiously, wondering if he should wait or come up with some other plan, when his eyes fell on the scrap of paper on the coffee table. It was the only thing out of place in Crowley's incredibly sparse apartment. 

Aziraphale didn't pause to consider his actions as he reached for it and read the small looping scrawl on the note. All it had on it was a name, Matt, and a phone number. Aziraphale dropped it back on the coffee table like he was burned. 

He turned and exited the apartment as quickly as his physical form could take him to the door. 

~~~~~~

The sun set on London and in a pub in some old forgotten neighborhood, a demon sat at a bar drinking more than any human body should've been capable. 

Inside a bookshop on the corner of a street that was uncharacteristically quiet this evening, there was an angel reorganizing a collection of books whose history extended back to the very beginnings of print itself. The stacks were growing and the amount of books returned to the shelves in some sort of actual order wasn't increasing despite the hours the angel had been at work. 

They were both miserable. 

In the pub, the demon made a decision after his third bottle of wine and a serious amount of suspicion and eyeballing from the bartender. 

He decided he was going to see Aziraphale. 

He also decided that it was time to put this whole crush business behind him. He convinced himself somehow that seeing Aziraphale now when he was certain of his decision would solidify it and he could be done with the whole silly nonsense. It was ridiculous to get caught up in the idea that an angel could ever love him and he chided himself for taking advice from a human on the matter.  
He called a cab. The only reason he did was because he could already see the frown forming on Aziraphale's face if he had tried to drive in his state. If he was honest with himself, he would also have to admit that he couldn't see straight.

Crowley didn't knock when he went to Aziraphale's shop. 

After thousands of years of his casual familiarity passed off as rudeness, he was loathe to knock just because they had fought .. or whatever they had been doing earlier. He strode in casting a glance around for Aziraphale and saw a light paired with some shuffling and muttering in the backroom. Crowley steadied himself and quietly crept into the room without alerting Aziraphale to his presence. He leaned casually against a stack of books and waited for Aziraphale to notice him.

"'Silly old bastard," Aziraphale muttered as he shuffled books around seemingly without direction. "As if you ever had a- OH CROWLEY" Aziraphale exclaimed with a start as he swung around and then promptly dropped his stack of books. 

The instant swoop of guilt in Crowley's gut held him hostage for a moment as Aziraphale worried over the books he dropped, clearly upset. Crowley scolded himself that he should have just walked in like a normal person not acting like some flash bastard. He's over Aziraphale, he tells himself firmly, and upsetting him by making a show of appearing isn't how friends act. It's how idiots who fall in love with their friends act. Which Crowley was not, he told himself weakly, even as he stooped to help Aziraphale recover the books from the ground and muttered a heartfelt and clumsy apology.

Aziraphale was frantically scrambling to pick up the books and determinedly not looking Crowley in the eye.  
"Didn't see you.. there. Quite a scare. Yes, quite a fright indeed. Can't just pop in and scare the wits out of someone. You could have been a robber or-" 

"A demon?" Crowley asked his voice strained in an attempt at humor but the joke throbbed in his gut.

"Oh. You know what I- I mean it's not as if- Well, you aren't just any demon." Aziraphale babbled on then quieted himself with some embarrassment. He felt Crowley could practically see through him the same as his sunglasses. The words he wanted to say lay sprawled out as much as his books did and he turned from Crowley to stop himself from saying any of them.

"Didn't think I'd see you so soon." He said instead of the several embarrassing things he wanted to say. The confessions itched under his skin.

"Oh, you know, just popping... by." Crowley's voice sounded strange and when Aziraphale glanced back at him, he was looking unseeing at one of the fallen books he had picked up.

Crowley's glasses had slid down when he had tried to help gather the books and when he looked at Aziraphale they locked eyes. Aziraphale tried not to react to suddenly being fixed with those eyes. He only saw Crowley sans glasses when they were drinking locked safely in the back of Aziraphale's shop. He always looked so sad to Aziraphale. Crowley offered the book to Aziraphale who took it carefully avoiding touching him.

Their eyes only met unguarded for just a moment before Crowley let go of the book and slid his glasses back into place. The motion was smooth but there was a finality to it that made Aziraphale edgy.

"I see your books came." Crowley said in an unnervingly steady voice that didn't match his wobbly movements in the least.

"Yes. They... did." Aziraphale responded looking around guiltily at the books he was arranging which were in no way new additions. He didn't usually lie to Crowley. He found he rather disliked the feeling. 

"You know whats great!" Crowley exclaimed suddenly tossing his hands out wildly as he spun around to face Aziraphale again. Aziraphale winced as he almost took out a stack of books.

"What is great?" Aziraphale asked warily.

"Humans." Crowley said too loud in the quiet shop, leaning in conspiratorially.

"I suppose." Aziraphale didn't want to talk about humans tonight. He was starting to think maybe he didn't want to talk at all.

"Humans they run about getting into all sorts of trouble. Some are not bad to look at too. You'll have noticed that, huh?" Crowley waggled his eyebrows at Aziraphale careening haphazardly toward the couch as Aziraphale flinched every time he swung his hips too close to a stack.

"I, well, I'm sure I don't what you mean." Aziraphale stuttered out as Crowley finally finished weaving through the books and plopping gracelessly down onto the couch. 

Crowley's limbs sprawled out made him think about how he'd gotten the couch after watching Crowley fidget in the big plush chairs Aziraphale normally preferred. Crowley needed space to wriggle around. A fact Aziraphale found endearing about him, normally. Tonight it was a reminder that this is Crowley and the couch he got for Crowley and how he had never told Crowley the reason. It was a symbol of the thousand things he quietly integrated into his existence because of one focal point: Crowley.   
He wonders painfully what he will do with the couch when Crowley stops coming around.

"Oh, you do know, an-Aziraphale." Crowley says catching himself, "Some beautiful mad human you meet in the pub one night and it's happily ever after, right?"  
Crowley feels like he is playing a dangerous game but Aziraphale doesn't need to know that surely. He won't see how deeply Crowley wounds himself even as he does so right in front of him.

"If you say so." Aziraphale says a bit more harshly than he intends to and wheels around, focusing on his books once more.   
Crowley isn't really sure what to say to that. Aziraphale's tone is off, but he is frankly quite drunk and also a bit mad at the moment so he blunders on without any real forethought. 

"I mean, they have such capacity for love, you know? I'm sure you find it fascinating. I mean, look at all this! These books. You enjoy them, don't you?" Crowley said with a manic desperation.

"I suppose so." Aziraphale said distractedly. He didn't like the way Crowley was talking and he wished he would stop. It was painful hearing Crowley go on about how wonderful humans were.

"I mean, if we continued on the way we were forever. Well," Crowley shook his head with a bitter smile, "It wouldn't be very good, would it? It's better like this. You never-"  
Aziraphale turns on Crowley, his anger flaring. He didn't want to hear whatever Crowley was trying to say. He didn't want to be let down easy. He just wanted to be left alone. 

"I never what, Crowley!" Aziraphale demanded with a suddenness that made Crowley pause his rambling.

"I just.. I um..." Crowley stuttered, caught off guard.

"You know, Crowley, it's just cruel of you to do this. You must have seen, I understand that of course, it's my fault for being so obvious. But, it's unfair for you to come here talking around the matter so cool and cavalier. I want none of it. I don't want to hear any of this. If you have something to say, just spit it out." Aziraphale dropped the book he was holding heavily onto a random stack. 

Crowley's jaw snapped shut with a click. His expression was unreadable under his glasses, but both knew Aziraphale rarely lost his temper with him. It seemed to surprise him. 

"I suppose I don't." Crowley spoke coldly. "I'm sorry to have been a bother."

Aziraphale's anger evaporated and he suddenly felt so tired. "I'm sorry, Crowley. I shouldn't have y-"

But Crowley waved him off as he stood from the couch, "It's fine. Sometimes, I need a little reminder, don't I? I should be off."

"You don't have to, dear boy. We could have a nightcap. I could-" Aziraphale sputtered, suddenly desperate to keep him here.

"It's fine, angel." He winced at the slip, "No use pretending anymore, is there?"

The words crashed around Aziraphale and he understood their meaning even if he didn't truly understand the words themselves. "I suppose there isn't."

He tried to stop the way grief welled up in his chest and pressure that built in the back of his throat. Crowley stepped around the books more carefully now and Aziraphale didn't look at him as he left. Watching the retreating form of his demon beloved would be too much for him to bear.


End file.
